London Interludes: A Novella

Summary

A Malcolm & Suzanne Rannoch Historical Mystery Novella
A year and a half after entering her unusual marriage of convenience to British attaché and intelligence agent, Malcolm Rannoch, Suzanne Rannoch pays her first visit to her husband's home. England: the country her husband fled for reasons she does not fully understand; the country Suzanne has secretly spent the last five years fighting against as a French spy.
The trip takes Suzanne and her husband to the heart of London society—the world Malcolm grew up in. A glamorous labyrinth of unwritten rules and unvoiced codes. Yet the glittering ballrooms of London are not free of the intrigues of the Napoleonic Wars. The search for stolen papers that could tip the international balance of power pits Malcolm and Suzanne against each other. Suzanne faces a stark choice between her loyalty to her cause and her love for the man she married—in order to spy on him.
"Shimmers like the finest salons in Vienna." —Deborah Crombie "Meticulous, delightful, and full of surprises." —Tasha Alexander "Glittering balls, deadly intrigue, sexual scandals. . .the next best thing to actually being there!"—Lauren Willig"A superb storyteller."—Deanna Raybourn

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London Interludes - Tracy Grant

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LONDON INTERLUDE

Tracy Grant

COPYRIGHT

This ebook is licensed to you for your personal enjoyment only.

This ebook may not be sold, shared, or given away.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

NYLA Publishing

350 7th Avenue, Suite 2003, NY 10001, New York.

http://www.nyliterary.com

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am inestimably grateful to the wonderful readers of this series who share Malcolm and Suzanne's adventures through lively discussions online and in person. And in particular for the wonderful suggestions for novella subjects, including the idea of a novella about Suzanne and Malcolm's first visit to Britain.

Thanks as always to my wonderful agent, Nancy Yost, who has believed in Malcolm and Suzanne from the beginning and always has keen insights into their characters and story. Thanks to Natanya Wheeler for a beautiful cover and for shepherding the book through the publication process. Thanks to Sarah Younger for superlative social media support and for helping the book along through production and publication. To Eve Lynch for the careful and insightful copyediting. And to Raphael Coffey for magical author photos.

Thanks to Veronica Wolff and Lauren Willig, who both understand the challenges of being a writer and a mom. To Penelope Williamson, for being a wonderful friend to share adventures with, a fabulous writer to share writer talk with, and an amazing honorary aunt. To my other wonderful writer friends, Jami Alden, Tasha Alexander, Bella Andre, Isobel Carr, Catherine Coulter, Deborah Crombie, Carol Culver, Catherine Duthie, Alexandra Elliott, Barbara Freethy, C. S. Harrs, Candice Hern, Anne Mallory, Monica McCarty, Poppy Reifiin, and Deanna Raybourn. And to the History Hoydens for sharing the challenges and delights of research.

Thanks to Gregory Paris and jim saliba for creating and updating a fabulous Web site that chronicles Malcolm and Suzanne's adventures. Thanks to my colleagues at the Merola Opera Program who help me keep my life in balance. Thanks to everyone who supports me and my daughter Mélanie, in particular Raphael Coffey, Bonnie Glaser, and Veronica Wolff.

And thanks to Mélanie herself, who inspires my writing and is starting to make up stories of her own.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

*indicates real historical figures

The Rannoch Household

Malcolm Rannoch, British attaché

Suzanne Rannoch, his wife

Colin Rannoch, their son

Miles Addison, Malcolm's valet

Blanca Mendoza, Suzanne's maid and companion

Malcolm's relatives in London

Lady Frances Dacre-Hammond, Malcolm's aunt

Aline Dacre-Hammond, her daughter

Judith Dacre-Hammond, Lady Frances's daughter

Chloe Dacre-Hammond, Lady Frances's daughter

Gisèle Rannoch, Malcolm's sister

Alistair Rannoch, Malcolm's father

Others in Britain

David Mallinson, Viscount Worsley, Malcolm's childhood friend

Simon Tanner, playwright, David's lover

Hubert Mallinson, Earl Carfax, Malcolm's spymaster and David's father

Raoul O'Roarke, Suzanne's spymaster

*Emily Cowper, Malcolm's childhood friend

*William Lamb, her brother

Edouard de Belcourt, French émigré

Karl von Stoffel, Austrian diplomat

This royal throne of kings, this sceptr'd isle,

This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,

This other Eden, demi-paradise,

This fortress built by Nature for herself

Against infection and the hand of war,

This happy breed of men, this little world,

This precious stone set in the silver sea,

Which serves it in the office of a wall

Or as a moat defensive to a house,

Against the envy of less happier lands,

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

—Shakespeare, Richard II, Act II, scene i

CHAPTER ONE

London

June 1814

Suzanne Rannoch's first glimpse of London lived up to the city's reputation. Gray. Gray stone walls, gray cobblestones, seen through a curtain of gray mist and drizzle. England. The country of her husband, Malcolm. The country she had spent the last five years fighting against.

Does it ever stop raining here? On the opposite seat, Blanca Mendoza, Suzanne's companion and maid, also had her face pressed to the window.

Oh, we're sure to get at least a day or so of sun. Miles Addison, Malcolm's valet, gave one of his dry smiles. It's summer.

Colin, Suzanne's almost one-year-old son, bounced on her lap, also intent on the window. Russ, russ.

There's the Tower. Malcolm spoke up, though he'd been more and more silent the closer they got to the city. They have lions, Colin.

La. Colin turned to his father with a grin.

That was almost a word, Suzanne said.

Almost. Malcolm caught his son as Colin launched himself across the carriage seat.

It seemed crowded, like all cities. But lacking the formality of Paris or the rambling quality of Lisbon, where Suzanne had lived since her marriage to Malcolm a year and a half ago.

The streets widened slightly. We're in Mayfair, Malcolm said. And then their hired carriage slowed to a stop. Malcolm handed Colin back to Suzanne and moved to open the door. Aunt Frances's.

Holding her son, Suzanne stepped from the carriage to be confronted by a smooth façade of pale gray stone, shiny black area railings, and three polished steps leading to a Doric portico topped by a fanlight. Which floor is she on? Blanca asked, as Malcolm handed her down behind Suzanne.

She has the whole house, Malcolm said. It's actually crowded when all her children are in residence.

Suzanne's gaze moved up the building. Four stories. She forgot, dangerously often, just who he was, this man she had married. Oh, she'd always known he was a duke's grandson, that his father was in Parliament, that his best friend was the son of an earl. But in Lisbon they had shared cramped lodgings. With her scent bottles crowding his shaving things off the dressing table, it was easy to forget the world he had come from. Dear God. The entire traveling theatre troupe she had grown up with would have rattled about on one floor.

Two footmen hurried down the front steps, blue and gold livery, powdered wigs, gleaming buckles that looked to be real silver. As Malcolm took her arm to help her up the steps, a dark-haired young woman carrying a blonde child of about five ran out of the front door towards them. You're here, I'm so glad. We've been waiting for hours.